


The Language of Flowers

by veritas_st



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:52:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritas_st/pseuds/veritas_st
Summary: He’s behind the counter, crouching on the floor in front of a bucket of Stargazer Lilies when the door crashes open, the small tinkling bell nearly being wrenched from the wall.  Derek peers over the counter at the young man as he slaps $20 on the counter.“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flowers?”





	The Language of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Язык Цветов](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969966) by [LonelyLikeACastaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyLikeACastaway/pseuds/LonelyLikeACastaway)



Derek lets a small smile play across his lips as he looks at the fresh flowers that had just been delivered to his shop. Sunflowers shone up from the pale blue buckets, azaleas popped out of the arrangements, gypsophila like a blanket across one of the benches. 

It had taken a while to get the shop to where he wanted but he’d got there, an oasis of calm in the small but busy streets of Beacon Hills. He had his regulars, old Mr Johnson from down the street who bought his wife flowers every Wednesday (“We met on a Wednesday you see? Got to keep the romance alive.”), Mrs Skellan from the big house on the edge of town who liked her house to be filled with flowers. She didn’t buy them so much as her housekeeper did, inspecting each stem intently before dropping it onto the counter for Derek to wrap.

It’s a simple life, but one that he needed after the fire, after Laura. His chest still hurts when he thinks of his sister, the one who held his hand in the principal's office when they were told their family had gone. Laura who had been so brave, an Alpha to his lost Beta. She had gone down fighting, always fighting and Derek had run back to Beacon Hills, to the one place he’d called home, despite the looming shadow of the burnt out shell of his family home, and made a place for himself amongst the small shops on the main street. 

He’s behind the counter, crouching on the floor in front of a bucket of Stargazer Lilies when the door crashes open, the small tinkling bell nearly being wrenched from the wall. Derek peers over the counter at the young man as he slaps $20 on the counter. 

“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flowers?” 

Derek clears his throat and stands up, wiping his hands on the small green apron he wears, the front pocket filled with twine and scissors. The young man swallows and looks at him and Derek’s used to people being confused by him. He’s not blind to his looks but he never uses them, not interested in using them to his advantage, he’d rather burying himself in his shop and go home to his quiet apartment above the shop than go out picking up women...or men. But the look of a tall, well built man behind the counter in a flower shop is one that causes all sorts of confusion. 

“Um…” Derek starts and runs a hand through his hair, “you’d need…” Derek steps out from behind the counter and taps a finger against his chin. “Fioxgloves for insincerity…” he plucks a few of the stems from a sunny yellow bucket, “yellow carnations for you have disappointed me,” a few more stems join the foxgloves, “ooh...stargazer lilies...hatred,” Derek looks at the young man and for the first time noticed the smattering of moles across his face, the wide amber eyes and the full mouth. The young man grins and it lights up his face and Derek feels his step falter as he rounds the counter again to grab some lillies. “You could also add some meadowsweet for uselessness and geraniums for stupidity if you want?” 

The young man nods enthusiastically, “yes, perfect, he’s definitely stupid and useless.” He looks so full of glee that Derek can’t help but smile at him, he raises an eyebrow at the same time and doesn’t miss the use of “he”. 

“Can I ask what this person did to deserve such a passive aggressive bouquet? One so full of loathing?” The young man shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Cheated on me,” he says simply and Derek detects hurt under his nonchalance. 

“Well, how about lots of geraniums then?” He sees the young man think for a few seconds and then his face breaks out into a wide grin, a faint blush against his cheeks. 

“Loads,” he laughs and Derek wants to hear that sound again. 

“You want it wrapped?” Derek asks, because he needs to say something otherwise he might reach out and run his thumb under the young mans bottom lip to see if it’ll fit there like he thinks it would. 

“Yeah, with the crappiest paper.” Derek huffs out a laugh and walks back behind the counter, he arranges the flowers on the most violent pink paper he has, it clashes horribly with the orange in the bouquet and the young man wrinkles his nose. 

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” he holds a hand out across the counter and Derek takes it, folds his hand around Stiles’. 

“Derek,” Derek does an elaborate knot with the twine pulled from his apron, wraps the bouquet in the paper and holds it out to Stiles to inspect. 

“It’s certainly...striking,” Stiles says, his head cocked to one side. 

Derek nods, “and full of loathing.” 

“I love it,” he breathes and claps his hands together, his thumbs under his chin, index fingers resting against his lips. Derek sees him smile behind his hands. “You’re a genius.” 

“Just know my stuff,” Derek shrugs and stabs the flowers into the till. Stiles looks at him and Derek swears he can see hope in his eyes. It’s been far too long since Derek’s even wanted to go out on a date with someone, let alone asked. He can feel the words bubbling up his throat. 

“You wanna get a drink?” Stiles asks instead and Derek nearly chokes on his own tongue. “Oh I’m sorry...I...uh...I thought…” 

“Yes, I want to get a drink.” Stiles grins across the counter, reaches out, wraps his fingers around Derek’s wrist and tugs. He writes his number across Derek’s palm with a pen he pulls from god knows where.

“Ok. You know...suddenly these don’t seem important.” Stiles waves the bouquet and grins again and Derek wants to give him a bunch of yellow tulips. Derek smiles back. 

“I think they need to be delivered. He needs to know what an idiot he was,” Stiles laughs again, quiets, looks at Derek across the counter with an unreadable expression and then nods. 

“Ok,” he shoves his change into his pocket, “is there like a goodbye flower? Or I#ve had a great time flower?” 

“Sweetpea,” Derek replies and Stiles grins again and Derek really doesn’t get tired of that. “Shop closes at 5.” 

“I’ll be here at 5.” 

The door tinkles, the little bell happier now, as Stiles closes it. He waves a little through the window and Derek waves back, wondering who the hell would cheat on him. 

He makes a mental note to stock more yellow tulips and sweetpeas and busies himself making the usual bouquet of dusky pink perpetual roses for Mr Johnson.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt on pinterest and it spoke to me. 
> 
> Yellow Tulips - you have sunshine in your smile   
> Sweetpea - Departure, thank you for a lovely time  
> Deep Pink Rose - Thank you (Perpetual Rose - Enduring love)


End file.
